Blue Rose
by Agent blue rose
Summary: They called her The Blue Rose, Or sometimes The scarred flower. They say she played just to feel. Sometimes fire helped her feel too. But Helena won't stand for it.


She called herself Blue Rose. A fitting title considering the vibrant blossoms woven into her hair, the pale blue standing out against the darker shade of midnight that flowed down her shoulders.

She was a street musician. You could finder her leaning against a sleek motorcycle strumming on a black guitar with a sapphire Pheonix painted on the front.

She didn't play for money. She claimed to have enough. Said she was just playing to stay sharp, to make sure she hadn't forgotten how to feel. Strange words that almost made sense coming from who fans were beginning to call 'the scarred flower'. Because sure enough she was covered in them; dark slashes and pale burns. Blue wouldn't say were she got them.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." She'd say with a smirk.

She never stayed in one place long. A week or two at most. She traveled fast. She could be seen in California one day only to be sighted in Denver the next. Or perhaps London one night and Italy the very next day. Almost like magic.

And then she vanished.

There was nothing but an abandoned motorcycle for anyone to go by.

Some said she was dead. Others thought she just quit. The rare nut job claimed she was a restless ghost who had finally moved on. The more practical theorist, taking into account her young age, simply thought she was a runaway who had been sent home by the police.

Lurking in the shadows, A girl in a leather jacket and blue hair smirked.

And then she frowned, examining her hands. they looked so real-so solid-yet they could drift right through stone if she willed it. Blue petals and the scent of mint tea followed her wherever she went. She didn't feel real; an imprint of a soul. A shell with memories. A solid ghost.

A crackle and pop caught her attention. Fire, burning brightly from a dungeon fireplace. Bright, warm. She wished she could feel it.

And maybe one day, When her heart was light once more, The Blue Rose would pick up her guitar again,

Just to feel.

The Blue Rose reached out and put her hand in the glowing flames. She could feel the heat. Knew it should hurt. Knew she should crumble like a dried flower. But there was only heat.

She leaned in. Farther, Farther. Soon she was curled inside the fireplace. Engulfed by the heat, but feeling no pain. Why should she? She was dead. Really truly dead. Her phantom soul tethered to this world by both choice and reluctance. An eternal heartbreak that would not mend. And no physical pain to stifle it.

Because she was dead.

"Stop."

A firm hand grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her out. Grey eyes looked into her own blood red ones. Strong-but-slender hands griped her shoulders as those same concerned gray eyes looked her over.

"I'm fine. I can't hurt." Willow spoke in a dull, emotionless voice. Helena scoffed as she brushed the soot off of her fellow phantom.

"No you're not and yes you can. I'm worried. You have to stop this!" The Ravenclaw's voice broke slightly as tears for her friend leaked from the corners of her eyes.

Suddenly the growing pressure that had been building up inside her broke through and Willow found herself sobbing quietly in her closest friends arms.

"I was so stupid! An ignorant fool wearing her heart on her sleeve! I should have known better!"

"DON'T!" Helena gripped her friend closer and spoke firmly. "You have a heart so large and much more loving than anyone could hope to have. And That is NOT weakness you hear me? Don't ever say that again!"

Willow nodded quietly while Helena gently wiped a few stray tears from the young phantoms face. "It'll get easier." She murmured before straitening up.

"Now come. The ghost council will be called to order soon. I hate for you to be late on your first meeting."

Willow chuckled and floated after her best friend.

Whether she was Willow the human lurking in the astronamy tower or The Blue Rose crouched in flames after her descent from heaven, She knew Helena would be there. Waiting with a cup of tea or wise words to pick her back up.


End file.
